There’s a name for that

I was lamenting a few days ago with a friend about how Mr 7 seems to be going through some mini teenagehood – moodiness, talkback, defiance – all fairly unusual for my sweet, sensitive boy. Later on that day, I found an article specifically addressing this and calling it the Stroppy Sevens. “So there’s a name for it!” I thought to myself. And strangely, I felt comforted.

Because enough other people have gone through the same thing that someone, somewhere has given “it” a name.

(Having been through the not-so-Terrible Twos, and the F….rightening Fours, you’d think I would have known about this. And now I’m dreading the Tortuous Twelves!)

And then I realised how powerful it is to give something a name (as someone who never named her dolls or soft toys as a child). It gives it familiarity, acceptance or normality. Which is comforting, if you think about it.

The developmental spurt kids get that sends them a bit loopy every now and again? There’s a name for that.

Unreadable writing? There’s a name for that.

The smell outside after rainfall? There’s a name for that.

The lights you see when you close your eyes and press your hands to them? There’s a name for that.

Something resembling the buttocks? There’s a name for that, too!

Finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning? Yup, there’s a name for that. At this time of year, I think we’re all suffering from that. Especially when you’re also suffering the Stroppy Sevens.

And I think we’re nearly at the time of year for suffering that sick feeling you get after eating or drinking too much. Yep, there’s even a name for that.